Vaudeville performer and songwriter Gus Edwards, responsible for discovering such talent as George Jessel, the Marx Brothers and Ray Bolger, spotted the young man and thought he had potential. Edwards put Rapf in charge of a large revue and had him coordinate business matters through Edwards’ New York secretary, Clementine Uhlfelder. For the next three years, Rapf and Uhlfelder corresponded sight unseen. The virtuous young woman often questioned what she deemed inappropriate business expenses causing some of their communications to be rather heated. When Rapf and Uhfelder finally met face-to-face, however, he fell hard for the good-looking girl known around the office as Tina. He asked her out and then married her in 1911 making it perfectly clear that his mother, Eliza, was part of the package.
By the time his oldest son, Maurice, was born on May 19, 1914, Rapf had left Edwards and struck out on his own. He produced top-notch vaudeville shows and gained a reputation for staging musical comedies featuring chorus lines of pretty girls or “girl acts” as the press dubbed them. The Haberdashery was one such show that opened in the fall of 1914. It showcased various musical numbers with plenty of girls, girls, girls—some in eye-popping lingerie. Also featured were British comedian Harrington Reynolds, singer Harry Bloom and contortionist Twisto the Great. True to his name, Twisto rearranged his appendages in places they weren’t meant to go. Audience members gasped in imaginary pain as he bent and curled his body to the titillating beat of Queen of the Nile.
Rapf’s shows often shared the stage with early films made by many of the east coast studios such as Biograph and Essanay. Impressed by the flickers, Rapf took a professional leap from live theater and began producing movies starting with The Argyle Case (1917) directed by Ralph Ince, brother of Thomas. A proud father, he often took his young son to work with him and, without hesitation, put the boy in front of the camera. When his films were finished, the producer turned salesman. According to his son, Maurice:
My father’s early movies … were sold on a “state rights” basis. That is to say when a film was finished, my father put the cans under his arm and traveled around to neighboring cities such as Philadelphia, Boston and Washington, D.C. to make deals for its distribution.…
Rapf’s method of business changed in 1919 when he teamed up with Russian-born Lewis J. Selznick, father of famous sons, agent Myron and producer David. Formerly a jeweler, Selznick, was now running Select Pictures Corporation with partner William A. Brady. Their production studio was located in Fort Lee, New Jersey with offices in Manhattan. Rapf came on board as production manager where he supervised the making of such films as The Invisible Divorce (1920) and The Greatest Love (1920) while Select Pictures took care of distribution. Rapf ’s can-carrying days were over.
By 1921, the United States had a new president, Warren G. Harding, and Germany’s Nazi Party had a new Fuehrer, Adolf Hitler. Harry Rapf had a new son, Matthew, and a new job—Head of Production at a struggling studio in southern California called Warner Bros. After a series of flops, the brothers Warner realized that they needed the expertise of a movie-making professional if they wanted to save their business. They called on Harry Rapf. Their new producer got things rolling when he oversaw the making of Anna Q. Nilsson’s Why Girls Leave Home (1921)—the only profit-maker released by Warners that year.
In 1922, Rapf put a freckle-faced teenager, Wesley Barry, under contract at the studio. Barry was already a popular player from the Los Angeles area who had worked in several films under the direction of Marshall Neilan. His first movie with Rapf producing was Rags to Riches (1922) in which he played the lead character, Marmaduke Clark—a rich kid who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Barry’s unruly hair and unaffected looks proved to be an audience favorite. The youngster became Warner Bros.’ first box office draw and completed several more movies with Rapf at the helm. Harry Rapf was making himself known around Hollywood and the delighted Warners were finally making money.
Rapf’s secret may have been his post-production poll. Before his movies were released to theaters, Rapf often consulted with a variety of people. In the years before preview audiences were a routine part of the process, he’d run the film and solicit opinions from people he knew—his doctor, his barber, his chauffer, studio workers and anyone else he could think of. He’d also check in with their spouses and children just to be sure. If his motley test group didn’t like something, he wouldn’t hesitate to recall the cast and crew for a re-shoot.
Rapf rarely failed to deliver. He believed the average moviegoer liked nothing better than a pretty girl or “something to feast the eye on.” He broke down his success in a very simple way:
Almost everyone wants to get as much fun out of his spare time, his evening or afternoon at the theater, as possible. If we give them films with good clean fun therein, also something which is so human that they can catch a glimpse of themselves or their neighbors, they are satisfied and so are we.… Tragedy is not good business. I hold no brief for realism in making screen successes. Oh, once in a while, it is all right to make a picture, which is different and more realistic. But do people go to the motion-picture theater to cry? They do not; they go for amusement, fun and laughter, and that is what I, for one, want to give them.
At the same time Rapf and Twisto were creating a collective cringe among their patrons, the Schenck Brothers, without turning themselves into pretzels, were also entertaining. Joseph Michael Schenck was born on Christmas Day in 1876—three years before younger brother Nicholas. The boys and their numerous siblings grew up in Rybinsk, Russia near the Volga River. In November 1892, the Schenck family came to the United States and settled in New York. Joe and Nick worked together selling newspapers until they found employment at a drugstore. Two years later, they bought the place.
When they weren’t working, they liked to ride the trolley to The Fort George Amusement Park—a favorite spot among New York City locals. Realizing there was money to be made, Joe opened “The Old Barrel,” a beer-selling concession that catered to park patrons as they waited for the trolley. The brothers later expanded the business by erecting a stage and hiring live acts to entertain the brew-buying crowd. Entrepreneur Marcus Loew was a frequent visitor at Fort George and he took a liking to the ambitious Schencks. Well-off, Loew had made his money investing in nickelodeons and penny arcades. He even owned theaters where flickers were shown. Loew agreed to back the young men on a new venture—their very own amusement park.
In 1910, Joe and Nick Schenck bought the Palisades Amusement Park located in Cliffside Park, New Jersey right across the Hudson River from New York City. They promptly re-christened the place “Schenck Bros. Palisades Park”—their name emblazoned over the main gate. Always thinking big and hoping to compete with popular beachside attractions like Coney Island, Joe and Nick installed the world’s largest outdoor salt-water pool in the middle of their park. The concrete swimming hole was 400 by 600 feet and filled with more than a million gallons of water pumped in from the Hudson. The deepest end, complete with diving boards, measured 14 feet. An island in the center offered swimmers a place in the sun. In addition, several hundred tons of sand was carted from the Atlantic coastline and deposited around the pool. The Schencks even had a wave machine built to complete their beach illusion. When the pool officially opened on June 8, 1913, they claimed it could hold 10,000 people.
While the amusement park business thrived, Loew’s movie house and theater chain expanded. The three men joined forces to become business partners in Consolidated Enterprises. With Loew holding the top spot, Nick was second in command. A callous businessman who enjoyed making people around him uncomfortable, Nick was quite different from his outgoing brother, Joe—now general manager of Loew’s booking office. Unlike his frosty brother who preferred power to kinship, Joe’s pleasant nature attracted people. He enjoyed flashy clothes, pretty girls, and risky bets despite his constant scowling. Their differences aside, the Schencks did share one thing—a fondness for the horses. The upstanding Loew once told them: “I would never
bet on anything that eats but can’t talk.”
While Nick immersed himself in the business, Joe’s interest leaned toward making movies rather than exhibiting them—especially after he met actress Norma Talmadge, a top star at Vitagraph. Talmadge was the eldest of three sisters and the daughter of overbearing Peg who ran the roost. Deserted by her husband whom she always called “the skunk,” Peg took charge of her chicks. She propelled Norma, Natalie and Constance into the moving picture world looking for financial security.
As early as 1910, fourteen-year-old Norma was working at Vitagraph in her first film The Household Pest (1910). She earned a steady living for the next few years playing everything from circus performer to guillotine victim. A reliable actress because Mama Peg, who ruled with an iron fist, “said so,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed Norma was always appealing and spectators took a liking to her. By 1913, she was given lead roles, but continued living under Peg’s powerful thumb.
It wasn’t until the fall of 1916 that Norma made a move without consulting her mother. The twenty-two-year-old actress eloped to Connecticut with thirty-seven-year-old Joe Schenck. Their marital news didn’t sit well with Peg who was shocked to learn that dutiful Norma went behind her back. All was soon forgiven, however, when Peg realized that this stocky man with thinning hair, whom Norma called “Daddy,” could potentially help all of her daughters.
Now that he got the girl, Schenck left his brother and Consolidated Enterprises to be an independent producer. He founded Colony Studios in New York City with partner Lou Anger, a former vaudeville comedian and friend of performer Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle. The company’s first floor was dedicated to Schenck’s new wife and home to Norma Talmadge Productions; the second floor housed Constance Talmadge Productions specifically for Norma’s sister, a popular funny girl; the third floor held The Comique Film Company that Schenck established for heavyweight comedian Arbuckle who only recently had left Mack Sennett’s shop in California. Anger and Arbuckle were instrumental in recruiting another vaudevillian—Buster Keaton. He made his first film appearance in Arbuckle’s initial movie for Comique, The Butcher Boy (1917). Keaton and Arbuckle teamed up to film more than a dozen productions in the house of Schenck.
Leaving the comedians to their own devices, Schenk lavished his attention on Norma. Her first movie under his supervision was the drama Panthea (1917). Set in Russia, Schenck who was still fluent in the language saw to every detail. Norma had only the best, beginning with the finest sets and costumes including the prestigious direction of Allan Dwan. Schenck also understood the value of good publicity. With much hype, he arranged for Panthea to open simultaneously at two different New York theaters—a first in film premieres. Thanks to “Daddy” and the popularity of Panthea, Norma’s career soared establishing her as one of silent film’s most important dramatic actresses. Mama Peg couldn’t have been more pleased.
As for the funny men, both Arbuckle and Keaton put their careers on hold while they briefly served in World War I. Afterward they resumed making movies still under contract with Schenck, but now working in California. Schenck thought Arbuckle should be making features instead of shorts so he arranged for the big man to work at Paramount. In order to keep Keaton, Schenck picked up the Chaplin Studios, also in California, and renamed it the Keaton Studios. By 1921, Keaton was a star famous for his deadpan face and married to Natalie Talmadge—the one sister who didn’t make movies. The jovial Arbuckle was finished. Falsely accused of murder, he was now an outcast. His movies that once pulled in millions of dollars were banned from theaters across the country as outraged spectators displayed their fickle side.
Schenck weathered the Arbuckle debacle in New York where he continued casting his wife in star vehicles. He also invested in United Studios, a California company, recently purchased by producer M.C. Levee. By 1923, Schenck closed his New York business and moved to the West Coast where he took over the reins of United Studios from Levee. Schenck explained to the L.A. Times:
Lou Anger, my friend and associate has finally prevailed upon me to become a resident of Los Angeles and to center the major portion of my activities in this city.
As a result of this association and having received the earnest and competent cooperation of M.C. Levee, the president of United Studios, I have completed the deal …
I intend to immediately move my offices, my staff and my stars, namely Norma Talmadge, Constance Talmadge, and Buster Keaton to our new home.
The “deal” Schenck referred to involved more than $1.5 million dollars and gave him control of the studio. A shrewd businessman, he kept Levee on as president, but make no mistake, one of Hollywood’s original high rollers had arrived. And just in case things didn’t work out, he always had Palisades Park to fall back on.
When Rapf left the boards for the silver screen and Schenk was setting up his New York studio, M.C Levee was working for Fox Films as a twenty-dollar-per-week prop man and before that he was a stenographer. Michael Charles Levee’s parents were originally from Germany, but he was born in Baltimore, Maryland on January 18, 1891. Levee’s family included brothers Louis, George and Sidney as well as one sister, Rose.
After one year of handling props, the ever-ambitious Levee was promoted to the general superintendent’s assistant and by 1917, business manager. He eventually left Fox to accept a position as Vice President and General Manager at Robert Brunton Studios where he was also a major stockholder. Brunton, a Scotsman, built the fully equipped facility on Melrose Avenue in 1917 with the intent of renting it out to various independent producers.
Levee, however, had grander plans. By now, he was not only entrenched in making movies, but also a husband and father. His wife, Rose, a girl from Bay City, Michigan, presented him with a son, Michael C. Levee, Jr., on September 22, 1920. In January 1922, he struck a three-million-dollar deal, bought out Robert Brunton, reorganized the company and established United Studios, Inc. Among those who joined Levee on the new board of directors was moneyman F.L. Hutton of E. F. Hutton fame and New York producer Joseph M. Schenck.
Major stockholders included Lewis J. Selznick and his partner-son Myron, who soon merged their own company with United. As president of the new business, Levee put famous sisters Norma and Constance Talmadge, whose films were still controlled by Schenck, under contract. In addition to the Talmadge sisters, Levee picked up several other big names like Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and child star Jackie Coogan whose father also owned stock in the company.
Levee’s new studio covered more than thirty acres on Melrose Avenue—room enough for twenty production units. According to the L.A. Times:
… The properties consisting of furniture, bric-a-brac, draperies, etc., are valued in excess of $300,000. The stock scenery equipment represents an investment of more than $150,000; the permanent exterior settings cost more than $250,000 and the electrical equipment represents an outlay of $150,000 …
Levee also invested $800,000 on studio improvements. Under his guidance, roads were paved, sidewalks laid and the administration buildings moved for more convenient access. Older buildings were updated while new ones were built. Levee knew, however, that brick and mortar and movies would not be enough to keep a successful studio afloat. Community support was also key.
One of Levee’s first civic duties under his new title was the symbolic $10 purchase of the first “patron certificate” presented by Los Angeles Mayor George E. Cryer in 1922. This certificate entitled the bearer to an admission to the First Annual American Historical Revue and Motion Picture Industrial Exposition scheduled for the following year. The press photo depicting this momentous occasion showed the mayor signing the certificate and stage money representing the $10 bill. The censors condemned the use of real money in the photo op.
The local event, meant to promote the city as well as the motion picture industry, coincided with the centennial anniversary of the Monroe Doctrine and would be sponsored by the Motion Picture Producers Association. Levee described the purpose of the exh
ibition:
The Motion-Picture Exposition will do more toward establishing in the eyes of people of Los Angeles, themselves, the importance of this vast industry in their midst than any other event since the beginning of the business.
Just as charity begins at home so does the “selling” of a business begin among the people of the locality that houses it. Every person in the City of Los Angeles will have the opportunity to see for himself or herself just what this business “is all about.”
Thousands who live here will visit the exposition and will come away with a new regard for the “movie.” If the exposition accomplishes nothing else, it will perform a mission that fully warrants its existence by reason of its “selling” the people of Los Angeles and vicinity on the motion-picture business—and what it means to every individual here.
In true Hollywood fashion, the event turned into a mini-World’s Fair. A pueblo-style city complete with Aztec towers was constructed along with an outdoor arena used for staging live entertainment such as rodeos, circus acts and even a ballet. Twenty thousand people attended opening day festivities on July 2, 1923 when a bronze statue of U.S. President James Monroe was unveiled. During the next five weeks, several parades with more pageantry and color than any royal could hope for impressed thousands of onlookers. Each night, color cascaded across the darkness as fireworks zipped skyward. Lavish live shows and personal appearances by many of Hollywood’s famous players added to the magic.
Foreign dignitaries were feted while the City of Angels publicly united with the motion picture industry declaring their mutual interests and claiming each other as business partners forevermore. Just days before the affair ended, however, the circus-like atmosphere turned somber. On the evening of August 2, 1923, Reverend Neal Dodd, a local clergyman, announced to the attending crowd that fifty-seven-year-old President Harding had unexpectedly died in San Francisco. A prayer was said, the orchestra played “Nearer My God to Thee” and the stunned audience went home. The fireworks canceled. Despite the emotional setback, the exposition ended on a high note after a three-day carnival called “Days of ’49” brought the California Gold Rush to life.
Bringing Up Oscar: The Story of the Men and Women Who Founded the Academy Page 12
